What's up *****s?
I told y'all it's about to be on, *****
We drop **** anytime we want to huh
Fell this *****, it's real

Flippin' the the game *****s that got that 'cane
Murder Mr. Dopeman still in the rap game
It's 1997, my *****s gone to heaven
Rest in peace 2Pac from Master P, doin' 2-11s

187 Khadafi, murder puttin' *****s
In six foot mother***kin' gurters
If you ***k with this Tru clique
***** you gettin' your wig spilt

Who run this gangster rap?
(No Limit runnin' this)
It's 'bout to be it, 187 Khadafi
Jumpin' on ghetto dope with these gangster topics
Still makin' scrilla your neighborhood drug dealer

Ice cream slaingin' tattooed up real *****
In the rap game pushin' quarters
Flippin' the water, from Texas to Florida
Choppin' game to the knuckleheads

And spittin' voodoo on the mother***kin' chicken heads
Down south hustlin', to the west coast
Got ***** choppin' game, I mean this rap **** in to dope
Puttin' them in packages, independent spittin' ****

Standing on stages with bullet-proof vests, lookin' for other cliques
But who gon' be the next ***** to die in this rap game
Or drop a hit on the wrong man?
'Cause they talkin' **** about other *****s
Now it's a war zone, in this rap game

But they can't stop us Tru *****s
They can't stop us Tru *****s
They can't stop us Tru *****s
They can't stop us Tru *****s
'Cause if y'all kill one, they'll be a million other *****s in line

With ghetto dope, bustin' ghetto rhymes y'all
Running from the one time not mines
Posted up, hostin' up like soldiers
Down south huster, throwin' boulders

Ready to block like a football player
Got these 17 rounds for y'all haters
So jump on this ghetto **** and come get this wicked ****
And jump up on this rap game and watch a ***** spit

Killer, murder topics put my goals if y'all think y'all can stop it
Hardcore bangin', hangin' slaingin'
***** down for whatever that's why we bangin' on wax
Into traps, got Beats by the Pound like *****s slaingin' sacks

In the 'hood, up to no good, got *****s 'bout it
From Baton Rouge to St. Louis to Cincinnati
Got *****s lined up in Atlanta like addicts
Gotta have this gangster ****, this real ****

From this mother***kin' Tru clique, ain't givin' up, living raw
And if we die, ***k it, sell my 'dro to the next gangster *****
Rest in peace Easy-E., but I'm out here makin' scrilla
So ***k y'all white laws and y'all mother***kin' police cars
Comin' through with gangsters
And killers long live the mother***kin' drug dealer

'97 to 2000 A.D. little kids wanna be me 'cause I'm 'bout it, I'm rowdy
The government and the press, them mother***kers want me out
For runnin' my own ****, *****s sellin' their company
Like the slaves sold their souls to 30 cents break bread

Don't you know 15 percent of what you made?
You a sucker, a clucker, so stop rappin' hardcore
You hip-hop mother***kers and stay true to the gizzame
Be about your paper, ***** ***k the fizzame third ward *****
Runnin' the hill it ain't no limit to this gangster ****
Blunt smokes and keepin' it real

Y'all can't stop us Tru *****s
Y'all can't stop us Tru *****s
Y'all can't stop us Tru *****s
'Cause if y'all kill one, they'll be a million more Tru *****s

***** it be Slikk choppin' and kickin' **** like karate
Fast like a Mazzeroti, crime boss like John Gotti
Look into their face, *****s afraid of me
Look deeper into their eyes, they scared
Yeah y'all busters scared of me

'Cause I flow like water run **** like Ki-Jana Carter
Tell 'em, I'ma be there watch [Incomprehensible] like the French Quarter
Down for whatever bow down ***** never
Buck like a Beretta wet you up like bad weather

Got fangs like a cobra now I got Range like a Rover
You don't ***k with us whether you ***ked up like a hangover
From the city where busters lie from the city where suckers die
Make way for P and Silkk, two of the baddest mother***kers alive

***** it's your time, ***** I want the whole nine
Bust one line, and make *****s change their whole rhyme
I'm the Shocker, yeah, I got them
It's Tru mother***kers, and y'all can't stop us and it's on